


Acres and Acres (And It's All Mine)

by thejerseydevile



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fem!Boffins, Fem!Bofur - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Genderbend, fem!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 05:14:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejerseydevile/pseuds/thejerseydevile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More often than not, Bofur is far too industrious for a proper lie-in; she’s usually quite busy tinkering away at this or that if she’s not gazing lovingly at her sleeping wife (bed-head, drool and all). But this morning it’s Bella Baggins who stirs at the crack of dawn, and in the morning’s sweet stillness she has a moment or two to appreciate the remarkable dwarrowdam at her side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acres and Acres (And It's All Mine)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ForAllLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForAllLove/gifts).



> A shameless gift for happiness-in-a-hat (aka ForAllLove) that isn't a messy doodle, haha, hope this suits your need for smut! Ehem, in a manner of speaking anyway...

It’s unusual for Bella to be up this early—especially on a cold winter morning. She likes to take her time when it comes to waking up, preferably roused by a whiskery kiss settled against the nape of her neck. In fact, she _does_ feel the press of whiskers against the top of her head—but there’s also the telltale huff of air and the rumble of Bofur snoring in her ear.

 

So she settles back against her dwarf, trying to find the perfect spot that will ease her back under to sleep. Last night’s activities should have _certainly_ been enough to tire herself out—and she can't help but grin at the memory, of Bofur settled between her thighs all bright eyes and lop-sided grin…  And as her mind wanders to some very pleasant memories she squirms against the solid weight at her back, and in return her dwarf wraps a firm arm around her, tugging the hobbit close with a sleepy mutter.

 

Now squished up to Bofur’s side and sleep still out of her reach, Bella cannot help but let her mind wander happily along—after all there’s nothing _better_ to do. So she twists in Bofur’s arms to face her, taking the time to study her dwarf with eyes and wandering fingers. 

 

More often than not, Bofur is far too industrious for a proper lie-in; she’s usually quite busy tinkering away at this or that if she’s not gazing lovingly at her sleeping wife (bed-head, drool and all). Bella once protested this practice, insisting that it must be terribly _boring_ to watch one’s wife snore into the pillows.

 

Bofur had reassured her that it was no hardship to take a moment and admire her.

 

“I’m blessed by Mahal to have such a clever and pretty wife,” Bofur had said—if only to make Bella stammer and blush. “Aye, I’m lucky to have the prettiest hobbit lass in the Shire to call my own—she even serenades me daily with the sweetest, and _loudest_ of snores.”

 

(The poor dwarf earned a much-deserved pillow in the face for that)

 

Now, Bella has her turn to admire her wife—and yes, she will grudgingly concede that Bofur’s snores aren’t _so_ obnoxious.  Thankfully though, she is no blushing maiden in her sleep, just as mussed and sleep-tousled as Bella is. But still, there is something utterly _charming_ about her, awake or asleep.

 

Bofur is everything Bella is not: all broad shoulders and angles—although she is developing a respectable stomach thanks to a steady hobbit diet. Not that losing her trim is a _bad_ thing; after all hobbits associate one’s weight with one’s goodness and a hobbit with a generous belly is surely well equipped to accommodate hungry guests.  Bella hides a grin against the side of Bofur’s neck, nuzzling closer as she trails a hand down low to pet Bofur’s lightly furred stomach fondly.

 

Now the _hair_ was an interesting matter. Confusing and unexpected at first—for Bella’s experience with chest-hair was limited to hobbit bucks—yet it is another part of Bofur she has grown fond of, just like her wife’s lop-sided smile and dimpled cheeks. It is a remarkable feeling to press close to Bofur this way, stroking her hands up and down her side, marveling at the soft pelt of hair.  She runs questing fingers from Bofur’s side across one muscled arm, playing with the dusting of hair found there—then up and up to stroke through loose, dark hair freed from tight braids the night before.

 

She combs out the tangles gently with her fingertips, before she leans in with a surge of fondness to press a gentle kiss to Bofur’s lips. It’s soft, it’s whiskery, and Bella _loves_ it. They fit snug together now, legs tangled as she continues to kiss _her_ dwarf, loving everything about their _differences_ and how well they _fit_ together. And it’s not too long until Bofur starts kissing back, a happy little sigh following as soon as they part.

 

“… _Well._ That’s one way to say ‘Good mornin’, love,” Bofur murmurs, shifting close to press their foreheads together, to keep close.

 

“Just taking a page out of your book,” Bella replies, hand snaking low to stroke Bofur’s side again. She smiles at her wife, and earns a smile in return. “Took the time to watch you, while you slept.”

 

Unlike Bella, Bofur doesn’t seem so embarrassed about it. She preens, in fact, stretching out underneath Bella’s eager stare.

 

“Really? And did you _like_ the view?”

 

“Oh yes, immensely—especially knowing that it’s all _mine_.”

 

Now Bofur cannot help but laugh at this, giddy in the knowledge of being loved, knowing that she is very much wanted, and Bella cannot help but giggle too—and as soon as they’re _both_ swept up in a moment of giddy, contagious contentment they are just as quickly drawn back to kissing.  They share possession— _mine_ , _yours_ —marked in kisses, in Bofur leading, then yielding as Bella presses forward instead. And from these gentle kisses, heat curls within Bella that is answered by Bofur—who licks at Bella’s lips, hands trailing up and down _her_ sides in a sensual stroke. And soon enough, Bella finds herself astride her wife, working her nipples with teeth and tongue, while Bofur moans and arches underneath her.

 

“Please Bella,” she pants as she spreads her legs. “ _Please_ —don’t tease me…”

 

Bella draws back to appraise her wife—and there must be something in her expression that screams _mine_ as she takes in the sight of Bofur, hard angles and all yielding to a pudgy hobbit lass, that persuades Bella to _skip_ the foreplay this round.  She bends down to share another lovely, whiskery kiss.

 

“No teasing, I promise,” She breathes, and then they part, Bofur beaming beneath her and squirming back to give Bella the space she needs. Her hobbit wastes no time settling between Bofur’s thighs and oh—Bella wastes no time _at all_ , setting upon her wife with a clever tongue and a patient hand. Bella takes it slow this morning, eyes sliding closed as she first works with her mouth; she switches to using her fingers when she tires, taking the time to settle back and admire the view, too.  Bofur encourages her wife with a steady stream of praise and a curse or two, rocking her hips to meet with Bella’s pace until finally she tremors with her orgasm.

 

Bella shifts up to settle pressed against Bofur’s side once it’s over, nuzzling close as Bofur catches her breath, eyes shut tight and smiling. Bofur takes a moment to recover, steadying herself before she turns, one hand slipping down and settling between Bella’s thighs—she knows her wife well, too, and soon Bella is clutching at Bofur’s shoulders, rocking into her fingers with a low moan.

 

Soon after, they find themselves tangled together again, content in the knowledge that they belong together—that they fit so well, so _nicely_. All angles and hobbity-pudge. 

**Author's Note:**

> ... Yeah I should stick to drawing haha


End file.
